Of Ice and Fire
by SighingStarbeam
Summary: Two sisters, one who wields the power of fire and the other who wields the power of ice, throw a dinner party in honor and memory of their father. Everything appeared to run smoothly, until some unexpected guests arrive with their own intentions. This is a reboot of a SuperWhoLock story I previously wrote and published based on a roleplay chatroom I did years ago. Enjoy!
1. Chapter 1: Everything in Place

In a small town in Maine there was a mansion that sat atop a hill that overlooked the rest of the residents. The mansion was generations old, with Georgian style brick exterior walls and slate gray roof with matching window panes. The entrance was surrounded by four thick white pillars, flower beds, tall abundant hedges, and a fountain that centered the stone brick round about driveway. As stunning as the exterior was, the inside was more wondrous than the outside. The walls were freshly painted white, unlike the outer walls, and the floor in the foyer was made entirely of marble tile, while the other rooms had pure, dark mahogany wood floors. A luminous golden chandelier was raised above the foyer where the grand staircase was placed, leading to the second story.

The home not only contained several rooms and luxuries, it was a home to two sisters, Christine and Olivia Haven. The two had grown up in the mansion with a secret they kept a hold for years. Olivia, the eldest, could harness the power of fire manipulation while Christine, the youngest of the two, harnessed the power of ice. They have managed so suppress their powers in front of others their entire lives, but on this day it would be crucial for the two to hide their abilities, for they would be hosting a party in honor or their father's memory and his company.

"Checklist, checklist, where is my list?" Olivia had already set up everything for the party she had been planning for months. There were tables of glasses filled with champagne and food all aligned neatly on top of white silk tablecloth. The mansion had been cleaned thoroughly, making everything shine radiantly from the sunlight peaking through the windows. The only thing missing was her checklist.

Olivia closed her eyes and in almost an instant knew exactly where she had left it. She could see every detail of the list. Every smudge, every line stroke of the items she had crossed off, and even the tiny crinkle starting to form on a corner. _Library,_ she thought to herself, _that's where it is._

Olivia walked down the corridor towards the library at the very end of the mansion. The sound of heels clicking on the tile echoed throughout the empty halls. In just one hour, the home wouldn't be so empty as employees and business partners from their father's business would crowd the rooms.

The door to the library gently creaked open, and inside Olivia's sister, Christine, was lounging around on a couch with her nose in a book. From the indentations on the surface of the couch, it had appeared that she had been there for hours.

"Chris, you have to get up," Olivia scanned the room, and located her checklist on an end table, "the guests will be here in an hour, and you still haven't showered." She picked up the list and read through it to see what else needed to be accomplished.

"At least I put on jeans, dear Olive." It was rare to see Christine wear anything other than sweatpants. With the amount of money that came in from the company, the two didn't have to work for the rest of their lives. Christine took this as an opportunity to invest in reading and trying new things in the mansion, while Olivia pursued a career in an expensive couture store to be closer to her hobby in fashion. "I'm almost done with _The Fountainhead_ , I have to say, not my cup of tea, but still worth the read."

"I don't care what you're reading. You know that this is a formal event, you can't wear jeans." Olivia reached for Christine's book and snatched it from her grasp.

"Hey!" Christine made a failed attempt to get her book back, instead she flopped back on the couch. "Why do I have to attend? It was your idea in the first place, which I didn't agree to by the way."

"It's been five years since dad died, Christine." Olivia closed the book and placed it in one of the bookshelves, her eyes looked down remembering her father, "This is the least we could do for everyone who had stayed in his company all of these years."

Christine stared at the ceiling in silence with crossed arms. She let out a huff, "Fine. For dad, but I'm only staying until dinner, then I'm in my room with no disturbances. You know how much I hate crowds, especially with our... you know."

"We've kept our powers hidden for this long." Olivia knelt down next to her sister, meeting Christine's blue eyes with her own green. "One night will be fine. Just think of it like school again, it had more people there than who are coming tonight, and not once did your powers slip."

"Easy for you to say, you're so outgoing and sociable and popular, everybody loved you back in high school." Christine rose from the couch and rustled her long, brown hair in between her fingers. "It was easy for me to hide and be invisible. Now that it's my own house everybody will be crowding me, wanting to know every secret we have."

"Christine, like I said, it'll be fine. Besides, maybe you'll find a cute guy. You haven't been on a date in... well, ever."

"I'm not interested right now." _Although, it would be nice to find someone who didn't mind cold temperatures._ She thought.

Olivia stood up and grabbed Christine's hands forcing her to stand up as well, "Whatever you say. Now go get dressed, we wasted enough time already."

Christine begrudgingly left the library to go upstairs to her bedroom on the left. Olivia followed and went upstairs to the right where her room was. She slipped off her clothes and put on a red strapless gown and black pumps. She looked in her bathroom mirror and put up her blonde hair in a bun. On the counter was a pair of golden earrings and a matching bib necklace. Olivia placed the necklace around her neck and slipped in her earrings. She then reapplied her favorite red lipstick and made final adjustments before declaring herself ready.

Olivia glanced at the clock that read 5:50 PM, ten minutes before the guests should arrive. A loud chime of the bell rang throughout the mansion, indicating some guests have decided to arrive a bit early.

Olivia made her way down the stairs, looking around to make sure everything was in place. She took a sharp breath in and out, and finally opened the large doors. "Welcome to the Haven Mansion. My name is Olivia Haven, please come in and make yourselves at home."


	2. Chapter 2: Far From Baker Street

Approximately half an hour before the party, a dark silver rental car swerved down the paved road. Street names and buildings went by, and the occasional car would pass the rental with a honk or rude gesture. The man driving the car tried to pay no mind to the people passing, while the tall passenger tapped his finger on his leg with annoyance and his other hand checking his phone every few seconds.

"Can you please drive a bit faster, John," the tall man urged to the other in an irritated tone, "at this rate we'll be there at the end of the party."

"I'm going the speed limit, Sherlock," John retorted, turning on the blinker to make a left at an intersection, "I don't want to get pulled over in a different country. And it's a bit harder to maneuver the roads here when everything is flipped. Unless you'd want to give it a try."

Sherlock rolled his eyes and sighed in defeat, then glanced down at his phone again with the time reading 5:38 PM. "No thank you. Take your time then. I'm doing additional research anyway."

A body was found in a hotel room in London two days prior to John and Sherlock's arrival to America. A maid discovered the body early in the morning to clean the room, upon seeing the body she immediately screamed and called for help. He was laying in the corner of the room, face down with deep gashes everywhere on his body as though he was attacked by a bear. The body was male with average height and build. Anyone would think that he seemed like a normal person. However, he was identified as Harold Daft from his American passport, which was the only thing he had on him other than his wallet filled with nothing but cash. Harold had no credit cards or bags, killed in a hotel room by blood loss from an unknown weapon, and to top it off the hotel surveillance didn't capture anything except Harold entering his room and never leaving. This kind of case of course piqued Sherlock's interest.

When Sherlock was called he didn't hesitate to pick up the case. He examined the body thoroughly without having to touch him.

"Cause of death was without a doubt blood loss," Detective Inspector Lestrade inquired, "but nobody can conclude the murder weapon. Some are saying it was a wild animal."

"In the middle of London?" John examined the body closely. The body's skin was pale besides from the blood and gashes that covered him. His family, if he had any, would've been sick to their stomach at the sight of him. "Poor bloke."

Sherlock remained silent, his eyes were gazed on the dead body in front of him. He crouched next to the body and pulled out a small magnifying glass.

 _Approximately 5'9, middle aged, grayed hair on the verge of white, a little on the overweight side yet in healthy condition, must work in a business. Wore a button down shirt with a suit jacket, yet indicated fresh sweat marks, must not have changed clothes from the flight. The body seems to have been fresh but already started to emit a smell. Twelve hours, maybe less since his death-_

"Sherlock, got any deductions?" Sherlock snapped out of his trance and scanned the area of the room. He stood up and examined the bed. Absolutely no marks or indents whatsoever.

"His death wasn't too long ago," he looked at his phone, 9:34 AM, "I'm certain he died at exactly midnight. He checked into the hotel a few hours before, but if he were here for business he would've left or at least changed. However, he had no baggage, he knew he was going to die."

"Maybe he was trying to escape from someone," John added, "that would at least explain why he had no credit cards."

"But why wouldn't he have at least a carry on?" Lestrade put his hands in his coat pockets, "If he was running he must've had some hope that he would survive."

"No, he was quite certain he was going to die." Sherlock gently touched the covers on the bed, "The only essentials he needed was a passport and cash to pay for everything. With that amount of money he was successful in a business. He didn't own one, but perhaps was partnered with one. And look at the bed, he was stressed, nervous, he couldn't sit or lay down."

"So we have an American who tried to escape to London, but knew he had no chance." Lestrade affirmed. "Now the question is why London?"

"He wanted to get as far away from America as he could. Nevertheless the killer still followed him, and by this point he would already be back in America. They knew each other, hence why he was definite that he would die." Sherlock clasped his hands together, "John, pack your bags. We're going on a trip."

Twelve hours had passed, and in those tiring hours Sherlock dug up as much as he could on Harold Daft. He discovered that Harold worked alongside a man named Elijah Haven who owned a biotech lab called Signite Co. The company was based in Maine, but appeared to be affiliated with many other companies across America. Sherlock thought he had reached a dead end, until he came across an article from a town in Maine, the same town where Elijah's company was located. The article read about an anniversary party being held at the Haven Estate in honor of Signite Co.'s 50th anniversary. Suit and tie event, nothing a consulting detective and his blogger couldn't handle.

John pulled the rental onto a long path that led up to the mansion. Eventually the path guided into a round about driveway in front of the estate. John was amazed with the design of the home and the gardens, while Sherlock showed no interest. John pulled up as far as he could and parked the car. The two men exited the vehicle, both dressed in black suits and ties. John adjusted his tie in the car side view mirror and Sherlock examining his surroundings.

Eventually the two made their way to the front doors. Sherlock checked his phone that read 5:50 PM, just fashionably early.

"Sherlock, before we go in I need you to promise me something." Sherlock stopped midway before he rang the doorbell and gave John a puzzled look. "Don't be, you know, you. We don't want to raise any suspicion, especially if the murderer is here."

"I understand, but I can make absolutely no promises." Sherlock rang the doorbell, the chimes rang loudly that they were heard faintly from the outside, "Not even in another country." John couldn't help but give a smirk.

The soft noise of heels approached the doors, when opened the two men were greeted by a woman with blonde hair in a red dress. "Welcome to the Haven Mansion. My name is Olivia Haven, please come in and make yourselves at home." The woman stepped aside to allow the two entry.

Again, John was just as amazed with the interior as much as the exterior of the mansion. "This is a beautiful home."

"Thank you. It's been passed down for generations, mister...?"

"John Watson, and this is my friend Sherlock Holmes." John gestured to his partner, who was already examining every detail of the home with his hands behind his back.

Olivia raised her eyebrow in suspicion, "How did you know my father, exac-?"

"Business partners. How old did you say this house was?" Sherlock turned to the two, then placed a hand on the wooden railing of the stairs, trailing his fingers against the smooth surface.

"I didn't say." Olivia crossed her arms, noticing the man's abrupt question.

"By the woodwork of the door frames and the scuffs on the tile, the mansion was built around the late 1850's. Now, if you've said it's been passed down for generations, my best guess would be your great-great grandparents are the ones who originally owned the estate." Sherlock gave a devilish grin while Olivia looked at the tall man completely awestruck. John on the other hand, looked more annoyed at Sherlock for doing the exact opposite of what he asked of his friend.

Sherlock couldn't help but do what he does best, deducing everything and everyone. His unasked deductions sometimes amazed people, while other people find it annoying, not because they didn't ask, but the deduction was so accurate.

"You know all of this from the woodwork?" Olivia finally spoke up.

"I thought it was quite obvious." Sherlock retorted.

"How do I know you didn't look it up on the internet before you got here?"

"I give you my word. Besides, I couldn't find anything about who owned the estate beforehand, so I figured I could do what came naturally to me."

"It's his thing he does," John chimed in, "Sherlock is a consulting detective. He deduces things and solves cases. Most of the time he's right."

"It's more of all of the time, really." Sherlock found it hard to admit his defeats, yet there were so few that he had to confess.

"I'll be sure to check my family records on your 'deduction'." Olivia smiled somewhat genuinely. Before anyone else could say another word, the doorbell chimed once again. Sherlock checked his phone, 6:00 PM on the dot. "Please excuse me, make yourselves at home." Olivia strolled to the doors, and group by group more people arrived.

Within minutes the foyer was filled with people dressed in suits and gowns. Some people went to the ballroom at the other end of the mansion where Olivia put on classical music on the speakers, while the rest were in the foyer filling themselves up on desserts and glasses of bubbly champagne. Even with more people on the way the mansion felt like it was full. People were laughing, exchanging stories, networking, Olivia was trying to entertain everyone, however, there was one sister who was still nowhere to be seen.


	3. Chapter 3: '67 Chevy Impala

The faint sound of music surfaced to the second floor of the mansion reaching Christine's ear, which only meant that the guests have arrived. Christine was barely ready, for the time she had been in her room before the party began, Christine made minimal effort to get prepared. She'd manage to put on some makeup to the best of her ability and only removed her pants in a failed attempt to change into her dress. The rest of the time was spent on her phone trying to beat her high score in one of her mobile games. The moment the noise began she realized the time and sat up from her bed. _I guess I should finish getting ready._ Christine thought.

Christine got out of her bed and looked at the dress Olivia was so inclined of buying her for this event. The gown was sapphire blue chiffon with a crew neck line covered in sequins, the bottom part flowed down to her ankles to slightly reveal her matching blue stilettos. Christine slipped on the dress and struggles to stand in her tall heels. _It had to be heels. She could've at least had the mercy of giving me flats._

After catching herself on her bed a few times, Christine shuffled to her vanity desk where her jewelry was placed neatly in a music box. Next to the box were some photos in small frames of her and her family. Most of the photos were of her and her sister, but one photo showed two little girls and their mother and father. Christine looked at the photo for a moment, trying to remember the holidays spent together, birthdays, family vacations, all of those memories seemed like dreams to Christine since she was so young before all of that ended.

Christine blocked the memories before she began to work herself up and reached for her music box. Upon opening it a soft melody played with a tiny ballerina spinning in the center. The tune reminded Christine of her mother, who gave her the box when she could barely walk. She began to hum the lullaby she knew by heart as she picked up a silver necklace with matching teardrop earrings.

After putting the jewelry on she turned to her full body mirror on the wall to inspect herself. She hoped her pale skin and poor posture wouldn't stand out in the crowd. She wanted the night to run quickly and smoothly, preferably her being away from it all. At first glance she could have sworn she looked like her mother, with her brown hair, blue eyes, and identical facial features.

She brushed the thought aside and opened her door, the music suddenly becoming louder. When she opened the door, she wished the party would be over already, or Olivia cancelled last second. Nevertheless, Christine could hear voices and laughter, making her stomach turn in unwanted anticipation.

* * *

 _Should I fall out of love, my fire in the light_  
 _To chase a feather in the wind_  
 _Within the glow that weaves a cloak of delight_  
 _There moves a thread that has no end_  
 _For many hours and days that pass ever soon_  
 _The tides have caused the flame to dim_  
 _At last the arm is straight, the hand to the loom_  
 _Is this to end or just begin?_

Led Zeppelin blasted through the radio of a sleek, black Chevy Impala as it traveled down the gravel road leading to none other than the Haven estate. Nobody knew, however, that the car and the mansion had many similarities. Both are cherished by two siblings that have grown up around the car or mansion, as well as held many memories throughout the years.

The only difference was instead of two sisters, the Impala had two brothers. The eldest, Dean, was driving with one hand on the wheel while his mind was immersed in the music, while the other brother, Sam, cleaned and assembled a silver pistol. Once he was finished, he placed the gun on the dashboard and checked the two FBI badges with their aliases, Mr. Berry and Mr. Dylan.

"Find anything else about the vamps around here?" Dean questioned his brother, flipping through the radio as soon as the Zeppelin song was over until he found another suitable rock band to listen to.

"Nothing that we don't already know," Sam reached for his laptop and opened to the obituary pages, where four died due to blood loss along with strange bite marks and another found beheaded. "three of the four who died of excess blood loss were some of the richest people in town, the fourth was a hunter who already took down one of them. Rest of the group must've tried to get payback." The entire case reeked of vampires.

"Now those sons of bitches are gonna get a taste of karma." Dean's tone was tense. He had been up for a few days with only about five hours of sleep in total. The time he spent awake was devoted to research on what was given upon to him by none other than the first murderer himself, the Mark of Cain. He wasn't sure if his irritability was due to the Mark or lack of sleep.

Sam gave his brother a concerned look, "Dean, I know this is a case and we need to be on alert, but if our hunch is right and the vamps will be at this party you need to cool it a touch." Dean kept his eyes fixated on the road as his little brother talked. "This party is practically a buffet to them. If people start leaving more than likely they'll leave too. So just, try and act a little cheerful, I know with the Mark-"

"I get it, Sammy," Dean interrupted, "you're just looking after your older brother." His attitude brightened, making Sam feel a little bit at ease.

A few minutes later, the Impala pulled into the driveway of the mansion. Dean looked at the clock on the radio; _6:43_ , just fashionably late.

The two stepped out of the car and adjusted their ties. Both made sure to have a gun for each of them and a knife soaked in dead man's blood. Finally, they put their fake FBI badges in their pockets and made their way to the front entrance. Dean rang the doorbell next to the thick door, already hearing the party going on inside. How someone could hear the chimes was beyond belief, however, the blonde woman in a red dress who has been answering the doors the entire time opened the door to the two brothers.

"Welcome to the Haven estate," Olivia said with a warm smile, "my name is Olivia Haven. Please, come in and enjoy yourselves.

The brothers followed the woman in to the mansion, making sure to close the door on the way. _Why does that name sound familiar?_ Sam looked to his brother Dean, who looked at him as though they had the same thought. Instead, Dean was referring to him checking out the cute blonde leading them through her home.

"Thank you, Miss Haven." Dean reached for his badge as he followed the woman into the foyer, "My name is-"

"Wait, don't tell me, you two look familiar." Olivia turned on her heel and examined the boys, almost piercing them with her green eyes. She suddenly snapped her fingers, "Why, if it isn't Sam and Dean Winchester."

The brothers raised their eyebrows surprised. So much for the fake badges. "Uh… Yes, that's us." Dean pondered for a second, trying to put together the name and face, "I'm sorry, how do you know us?"

"I'm not surprised you wouldn't remember," Olivia said, "you were only here for two weeks. Maybe three at most."

Sam's eyes lit up, remembering why the name rang a faint bell. "That's right, we went to high school together." Dean's face lit up as well. How could they forget about a town they've already been in?

"We were in the same grade. I think we had geology together." Olivia turned her attention to the younger brother, "And I think my sister and you were in the same grade."

"Oh, right." Sam barely remembered the high school, let alone the town. Their dad was here for a little while to help a fellow hunter on a case. It was possibly the shortest case they've worked, meaning their school session was over before the brothers knew it. Christine and Olivia on the other hand, went to that high school all four years trying to keep their secret safe. Olivia was as outgoing as she ever was in high school. Cheerleader, debate team, even a role in one of the theater productions, she was popular in almost every clique. Christine was the complete opposite of her elder sister. The only club she joined was film, where all they did was watch movies that were sometimes in different languages and analyze them after. It was mostly quiet, and very few people were involved, making it the best place to stay unnoticed. When the school day was done and the clubs were dismissed, Christine would immediately be in her sister's car waiting to go. Olivia accepted the fact that her little sister didn't want to accidentally reveal her powers, but she didn't want her to seclude herself from everyone else. "What was her name? Chrystal… Christine, wasn't it?"

"That's her. She should be down any minute." Olivia eyed the boys up and down, "You two have definitely changed since then."

"Well, you've certainly stayed just as gorgeous as you were in high school." Dean offered his flirtatious smile to Olivia, which she giggled in return, while Sam merely rolled his eyes.

"I guess you haven't changed much, Dean Winchester." Olivia grabbed two flutes of chilled champagne in crystal clear glasses from a nearby table and gave them to the two boys. "Please, enjoy the night." She grabbed another glass for herself and raised it, "To reunions and new beginnings."

"To reunions and new beginnings." The brothers said in unison reluctantly. After the three had a mouthful of the bubbling booze, Olivia excused herself to converse with the other guests. Sam and Dean looked around the mansion, momentarily taking in the view before getting to work.

While looking around, the two didn't notice a tall, British man peer at the brothers, almost like he was studying them. "John, I believe we have some interesting characters with us tonight."

* * *

Christine shakily grabbed the railings as she made her way down the grand staircase. She thought she could feel everyone's eyes see right through her. Before turning her heels to go back upstairs, she spotted her sister in the crowd and made a direct b-line to Olivia. Christine gently grabbed her sister's shoulder, making Olivia's mouth gape at the sight of her sister.

"Chrissy! You look absolutely amazing." Olivia made a twirling motion with her finger, beckoning her sister to spin to show off her gown.

Christine gave in and lazily spun in a circle. "I feel stupid."

"No you don't. If anything, you look like mom." Olivia embraced Christine in a hug, "Remember, this is for both of them."

"I know, I know." Christine pulled away, "But I'm leaving when dinner starts, you can at least give me that."

Olivia pondered at her request as she looked at the clock; _6:58_ , dinner was scheduled to be at 7:30, "Fine, but you need to at least make five new friends tonight." Christine rolled her eyes and nodded her head in agreement. "And don't lie to me, you know I can tell when you do."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. We've been living together for how many years?" The girls laughed while a group of people went up to Olivia, anticipating to talk to the lady of the house. At the same time, the doorbell rang.

"Oh, Chris, could you pretty please get that? I'm a bit busy." Olivia turned her attention to the other well dressed people. A few moments after Christine left, the group dispersed away from Olivia and scattered to talk to other wealthy individuals, giving her a second to breathe. She walked over to a corner of the room that had very few people around and noticed that some of the candles on a table weren't lit. Olivia looked around to make sure nobody was noticing her, and quickly pinched the wick of the candles, instantly lighting them with a small flame.

Christine trudged her way to the front doors while thinking of loopholes to the deal she made with her sister. _Maybe everyone was already talking to someone else and I didn't want to bother them._ She continued to think as she grabbed the door handles, opening the heavy doors. "Welcome to the Haven-" Christine stopped as soon as she realized who the man standing in front of her was, "You."


End file.
